This Time Tomorrow (Phenomenal Fate 2)
Elias eased away from her only momentarily to secure the sheet over her shoulders and around her body, then drew her back to his solid wall of muscle. “All right.” Was it her imagination or did his fingers clutch at the sheet a little desperately? “Can you…” He paused and she couldn’t help fantasizing that he needed to gather himself, to prepare for being this close to her while she stripped. “Can you unfasten your pants and push them down?”
Being pressed to Elias made her limbs feel languid. She’d never been taken care of in her life and despite who this man was, despite the fact that she would kill him in the near future, she couldn’t help but want to give in. To let him care for her fully. But no good would come of indulging that temptation, so she pushed through the haze of comfort and unbuttoned her leather pants, lowering the zipper. Upon sliding her thumbs into the tight waistband, she winced, her forearms shaking and seizing up when she tried to push them down.
“I can’t,” she gasped. “I can’t do it.”
A vibration traveled through his body. “You’re not supposed to get hurt, goddamn you.”
Her teeth started to chatter. With cold, irritation, residual fear. “Considering the alternative was death, I think I fared pretty well.”
Elias remained still for several seconds, then the sheet was twisted in his hands and ripped straight down the middle, the thin material falling in tatters to the floor.
She clucked her tongue. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but we are short on linens.”
The floorboards creaked as he came around, stopping in front of her, his eyes glowing like copper fire. “You knowingly came here to die?” One more step and he’d completely invaded her personal space. “You came here to die over your failure to kill me?”
In lieu of a yes, Roksana lifted her chin. “And your cronies, da.”
His pupils expanded, blocking out the color. “Why were you allowed to live?”
Because I was given a second chance to kill you. “I was given a different task,” she said, amending the truth slightly. “One that is more important than ridding the planet of a few inconsequential bloodsuckers.”
“One of those bloodsuckers is the king now.” Elias raised an eyebrow. “Your mother no longer wants him dead?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Nyet. She does not.”
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
Elias didn’t answer her—and his anger was far from dissipated. “Enough with the bullshit. You’re shaking.” He took her by the wrists, guiding her hands to his shoulders. “I’m going to take your shirt off.”
She braced herself with a breath, at this point prepared to remove the chilled garments by any means necessary. “Okay.”
Roksana glued her attention to Elias’s throat while he lifted the wet shirt, easing it over her aching shoulders. “All right, reckless brat,” he instructed gruffly. “Drop your head forward.”
“Fine,” she grumbled, tucking her chin to her chest. “Homicidal ass.”
With a grunt from Elias, her wet shirt was pulled forward over her head, smacking into a saturated bundle on the ground. Leaving her in nothing but a red demi-cup bra and leather pants. Elias’s only reaction was a sharp leap in the line of his jaw. “No bustier today?”
Roksana straightened with a groan and pursed her lips. “I like to feel cozy when I fly.”
“Comfort mattered on the way to your own death?” Elias snapped.
“What is it to you?” Roksana blurted, wishing she had the strength to shove him backwards. “Why do you care? With me gone, you’d have been cleared of any favors owed. You could already be on your way back to New York. What should my death matter to you?”
Elias gripped the meat of her arms in a whip of color. For just a fleeting second, there was such torture on his face, she forgot to shiver. She could only chase that expression like a hound, stunned, and then it was gone. Had it ever been there to begin with? The swift presentation of something—some feeling for once—and then the quick removal of it rocked Roksana back on her heels.
“You are a close friend of the king’s wife. And I serve the king now,” Elias said quietly, dropping his shaking hands from her person. “To allow something to happen to you would…upset things.”
There it was. The truth. He wasn’t there because of some star-crossed, unrequited love. Stupid girl. He might have come to repay a favor, but he did so out of pride. He cared for her out of duty to Jonas and Ginny. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
His blanch was a slight, infinitesimal thing. As imaginary as the agony she’d glimpsed just seconds ago. “That’s fine,” he said in a clipped tone. “Just stay alive.”
Roksana stared woodenly at the wall as Elias peeled down her leather pants, going down on his knees to remove her shoes, socks, pants. When he finished, it took him longer than necessary to stand, but he did, features tight, fists bunched. Refusing to read anything more into a single thing Elias did, she closed her eyes and ignored him, willing her body to restore its balance. Taking her misplaced gravity back from the man.